Connetta Jean

Old Doors And Hinges.. - Poem by Connetta Jean

The Old door stood openAll weathered and worn..the paint was peelingthe hinges were torn..left there abandonedwith glass in the floorI felt the sadnessof the green open door..There once was a timeof clean shiny floorsglass in the windowsnew paint on the doors..She's old and she's fadingweathered by rain and windher hinges are rustyhanging on like a friend..